I got a little work done this morning. We went out shopping for hose washers (yep) so we don’t have a leak in the back yard. But a little after that I came down with a rare case of the hungries…I mean, if I didn’t get food in the next fifteen minutes, I was going to collapse.

So we happened by the Peking Palace, which turned out to have really good, cheap food—We had what amounted to a supper (we had no idea it would be that size) and I folded for the afternoon. I haven’t slept well in a long time. So I slept, and slept, and slept. I’m worthless.

But feeling better. And my being a stationary at-home object pleases Ysabel no end. Even Efanor is glad to see me back, and he and Ysabel actually sat on the same bed without politics.

Jane’s as tired as I am. I’ll have to photograph the after of the fish tank, which she was fixing at 2 am, plus all next day. She hasn’t updated: she’s been absolutely brain-fried as I am. It’s been a long emotional rollercoaster, and she’s had to cope with me, which means mutual face-down in the bean dip.

It’s a good sign that I’m starting to write, and write productively.